


I Taught Myself Sign Language To Speak To Myself

by LizardsAndWizards



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sorority Noise, Steve Rogers's Motorcycle, amputee!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizardsAndWizards/pseuds/LizardsAndWizards
Summary: The one where Steve is a nervous wreck and Bucky is really big on Indie bands.Title cred - Dirty Ickles by Sorority Noise





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the plot, really.

Bucky wanted to kill his alarm clock. No, that would be easy - He wanted to torture it and give it a slow, painful death. He couldn't believe it was 0800 already, he was still exhausted. But he had an appointment at the VA at 0930 to check his new prosthetic, so he had to succumb to the suffering that was getting up early. 

He pulled himself out of bed after shutting off the damn clock, and stretched his arms high, flexing his left a few times. He'd only had the sleek metal prosthetic for a month now, and he had fallen in love with the thing after he'd gotten used to it. He'd been pretty good with just one arm for the past four years, but do you have any idea how hard it is to tie your hair back with one arm? He just couldn't do it. So when he moved to DC and met the VA's very own Sam Wilson, his life seemed to change. 

Bucky took a quick shower and changed in his bedroom. He had dug out one of his old t-shirts, which was representing one of his favourite bands - Sorority Noise. He'd gotten the t-shirt less than a week before he shipped out for his first tour at a gig in Brooklyn. The band wasn't very big back then, and it's a limited edition shirt. He always felt more confident when wearing it, it made him feel more like himself. He stood to examine himself in the full length mirror, his eyes being drawn to his left arm, as always. He loved the thing, but he didn't always feel comfortable showing it off. He flexed the arm, watching closely as the plates moved. With a sigh, he grabbed his leather jacket, pulling a glove over his left hand as he left the apartment. 

___________

Bucky was too warm. The sun was beating downand he cursed his leather jacket, yet he kept his head down and tried to avoid getting in anyone's way. He kept his focus on his feet, so he didn't even get a warning before he collided with a surprisingly warm wall. And then there was hot coffee down his front, soaking his shirt and scalding the skin underneath. A person, then. Perfect. He felt as though he could die on the spot. 

"I'm so sor-Hey, is that a Sorority Noise shirt?" 

"It was." He muttered, looking down at his ruined t-shirt, which was soaked and clinging to his torso. He glanced up at the guy he had run into, and tried his hardest not to gape. The guy was gorgeous. Built like a Greek god, he had golden hair and the bluest eyes Bucky had ever seen. He continued to stare, like a moron. 

"I'm so sorry," The guy rushed out. "Here, have mine." He sounded more embarrassed than Bucky felt, and that was saying something. He glanced down at the guy's t-shirt, which looked like it was going to tear from the strain it was under, and it was the same fucking shirt. Before he could react, the guy had pulled the t-shirt over his head, and Bucky wasn't ashamed to admit that he was checking him out. It was a given, with a body like that.

"It's fine, keep it." Bucky said quickly, his heart pounding as he began to panic slightly - the scene had caused people to stare. Bucky tore his eyes away from the god-like figure of the guy, and attempted to keep walking, but froze when the guy laid a hand on his arm to stop him. His breathing began to shallow as he shook off the man's hand. 

Bucky stared up at the stranger with his eyes narrowed, and only then realised the guy look just as uncomfortable as he did, probably even more so given the fact he was the shirtless one. And blushing, even the tips of his ears had gone a bright red. The blush seemed to spread down his body, although Bucky pretended not to notice. Bucky took a hold of the guy's arm with his right hand and led them down an alley between a book store and cafe to get the out of view of the public eye. His t-shirt now felt like a cold weight on his chest, and he pulled the leather jacket tighter around him. 

The stranger, who was now watching him with wide eyes, slid his arm out of Bucky's grasp. He thrust the balled-up t-shirt into Bucky's hands, who snorted. "You can keep your shirt." 

The man only reddened as he accepted his t-shirt back, avoiding Bucky's gaze. He studied the man's face for a few moments before the stranger abruptly stuck out his hand. His right hand. "I'm Steve." 

Bucky hesitated before offering his gloved left hand, and if Steve noticed anything, he didn't let on. "Bucky." 

This wasn't how he'd pictured his day going - Shaking hands with a shirtless stranger in a dingy alley.

The man, Steve, Bucky reminded himself, leveled him with an amused expression. "Bucky?" He even cracked a small smile. 

"James." He offered instead, but Steve just seemed even more confused by that. 

"How the hell do you get Bucky from James?" He asked with a laugh, apparently uneffected by the fact that he was still without a shirt. Not that Bucky was complaining, really. 

"Middle name's Buchanan." He said dryly, having had this conversation almost every time he introduced himself to someone new. His gaze lingered on the t-shirt still in Steve's hands, and he seemed to take the hint and pulled it over his head. 

Steve simply nodded in reply to what Bucky had said, which was not the reaction he was expecting. Maybe the guy just didn't know his past presidents. Whatever the reason, it was refreshing. Steve ran his hand through his hair, Bucky's eyes following the movement. There was a beat of silence, until Steve cleared his throat. "So, where'd you get the shirt?" 

Bucky faltered for a minute, absentmindedly pulling the wet material from his chest, only to have it go right back. "A show back in '09." 

"Oh yeah? Me too." He smiled, showing his teeth in a grin that could light up a room. "Back in Brooklyn. Had to drag my friend Brock with me, wouldn't have been allowed in otherwise." 

To Bucky's surprise, he let out a laugh. "How come?" He found himself asking. 

Steve snorted, not unattractively. If he was honest, he wasn't sure if he could find anything Steve did unattractive. "Believe it or not, I was about this height," His hand was parallel to his elbow. "Until I was 17." 

Bucky laughed, until he realised that Steve was completely serious. He stared at the guy in disbelief. He was above average height, and Steve had a few inches on him. It was silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bustling street a few metres away. That was until Steve slowly started to smile. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot." He said sheepisly, looking at Bucky from below his lashes. "Maybe I could buy you a coffee or something, to make it up to you?" 

The blush was back, although Bucky wasn't entirely sure why. 

"Uh, Sure! I mean, um, yeah, why not." It was his turn to blush, as he wrung his hands awkwardly as Steve began to grin again. It was only as Steve turned to lead them out of the alley, something clicked. "Shit, I have an appointment." He remembered suddenly, causing Steve to turn. It took Bucky a second to get his phone out, and his eyes widened. "In ten minutes." He groaned, knowing there was no way in hell that he'd make it to the VA in time. It was at least another thirty minute walk. Not a chance that he'd be able to change beforehand either, so he would just have to put up with a damp fabric. It'd probably dry in the sun, but the smell would linger. 

"What's up?" Steve asked, and Bucky had actually forgotten that he was there. He wondered if he would be able to catch a taxi or call an Uber. He'd definitely have to call ahead to tell Sam he was going to be late. 

"I'm running late." He said, making a move to pass Steve. 

"Where ya' headed?" And once again, Bucky could only stare. He had to get that under control. "I mean, my bike's just up the road. I could give you a lift, if you want, I mean. You don't need to. It was just an ide-" Steve babbled on nervously until Bucky cut him off. 

"The VA." He said quietly. He didn't really want to admit it, but he wouldn't make it for the next 30 minutes if he walked. Steve, however, didn't seem to falter. His smile grew, if anything.

"Okay, cool. The bike's this way." He pointed out, and they both began to walk in that direction.

Bucky wasn't sure whether he should try and make conversation or not. He wasn't prepared for a situation such as this. Deciding to go out on a limb, he said the first thing that came to mind. "You know, I don't remember seein' you. There were only about fifteen people there, I think I'd remember you."  
He wanted to smack himself for how much it sounded like he was flirting. If he were like this with every stranger he met, he was bound to get punched eventually. Not that he can't take care of himself, but being punched isn't exactly a nice experience.

Steve didn't seem to notice this, he looked at Bucky with wide eyes. "You from Brooklyn?" He asked, and if Bucky didn't know any better, he'd have said the guy was excited.

"Born and raised." He confirmed with a nod and smile.

"Why'd you leave?" Steve asked hesitantly, not wanting him to feel obligated to answer, which led Bucky to smile.

"Just needed a fresh start." He says casually, rolling his left shoulder. "What about you, Stevie?" He flashed a grin.

Steve just smiled, and blushed some more. He seemed to do that a lot. "I could say the same." He replied in the same forced-casual tone that Bucky had used. The latter nodded as they approached Steve's motorbike and let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Stevie. A Harley?"

Steve looked over at him and grinned, leaning over to pull a helmet from below the seat. He handed it to Bucky and climbed onto the bike, starting it up. "She's like my baby." He explained sheepishly as Bucky slid the helmet on and adjusted the strap.

"You know, it ain't exactly safe to ride without a helmet." Bucky remarked. The guy was in a short sleeved t-shirt and no helmet, he had to be crazy.

Steve snorted and nodded in acknowledgement. "I thought you were running late." He raised an eyebrow.

Bucky rolled his eyes, climbing onto the seat behind him. "Alright, punk. But it's your own fault if you get hurt." He grumbled, getting himself situated. He froze for a moment, not having planned this far. He was basically plastered to the guy's back, after all. He slid his arms loosely around Steve's waist, gripping loosely, just enough to stay up right. He was still learning what his arm could do, didn't know his own strength and he didn't exactly wanna risk this. "This okay?" He asked, resisting the urge to prop his head on Steve's shoulder.

Steve took a hold of Bucky's hands and motioned for him to clasp his hands together and hold on tighter, staring ahead to hide his flushed face. It was a poor attempt, even the tips of his ears were turning pink. "Don't want you fallin' off."

Bucky tried to smile. There was no way the guy couldn't tell that one of his arms wasn't as squishy as the other. But Steve didn't say anything, simply revved the engine. "Ready?"

Bucky nodded and murmured a quiet yeah before Steve kicked off from the curb. His grip on Steve's shirt tightened without him realising, and he dropped his head to rest on Steve's back to avoid the wind whipping at his face. He could feel Steve laugh, so he squeezed his waist playfully, taking a deep breath as they went down the road at high speed. He hadn't ridden a motorbike in years. When he was 16, he spent all of his savings on his own, but had to part with it before he went overseas for his first tour. He was devastated.

They stopped at a red light and Steve turned his head, so that he could see Bucky out of the corner of his eye. He patted Bucky's lower arm to get his attention. "You doin' alright there?"

Bucky lifted his head from where it was resting and smiled, not stopping himself as this time he did rest his chin on Steve's shoulder. "All good." He reassured, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

_____________

Steve pulled up st the curb just to the left of of the main doors, and Bucky reluctantly slid out from behind him, feeling significantly colder despite the fact the sun was still beating down. He undid the helmet, handing it back to Steve as he checked the time. He was two minutes late. "Thank you so much, Stevie." He said a little breathlessly.

Steve nodded. "S'alright, Buck. Go before you're even later." He smirked.

Bucky wanted to thank him properly, but he really was running late. Steve seemed to sense his turmoil. "Honestly, it's fine. Giving you a ride was the least I could do." He smiled a little sheepishly.

Bucky smiled, glad his t-shirt had dried a little. "Thank you!" He called back as he took the steps two at a time, turning back to see Steve giving him a mock salute before the door closed behind him. There was an unusual feeling in his chest.

_________

Bucky's shoulder ached. The appointment seemed on forever, although he knew he had gone in around 40 minutes ago. He knew these sessions were for his own good, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy going to them. The first twenty minutes were spent talking to Sam, who was concerned with the state of him - windswept hat hair and a damp shirt, but he quickly explained what had happened with a smile. He told Sam how the guy was really nice and had pulled off his shirt in the middle of the street, which made Sam crack up. After that, he and Sam had moved to another room and Stark had come in a few minutes afterward. He had checked that where the prosthetic was fused with his skin was healing nicely, checked the arm itself over, which required opening the robotic limb up. Stark was always as careful as possible while rambling on about whatever came to his head, but it felt as though he'd prodded and poked at for hours.

Stark had thrown a plain black t-shirt to him before he left, so he was no longer smelling like coffee. He would be eternally grateful for that, as the smell was beginning to give him a headache. He had put his glove and jacket on before leaving the building, Sorority Noise t-shirt in hand, and he halted in his steps halfway down the stairs. Steve and his motorbike were in the same place, and he hurried to put his phone away when he spotted Bucky. He felt himself begin to smile as he approached the blonde.

"What are you still doin' here, punk?" He asked with a grin.

Steve smirked, leaning back against his bike. "Thought we agreed to get coffee, jerk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not own any of the characters, nor Sorority Noise. But you should definitely check them out. 
> 
> My first fic on this site, and Stucky. What did you think of the character portrayal?   
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and as it is my first work in this fandom, let me know how I did?


End file.
